Festive Forgiveness
by rookieD
Summary: (One-Shot). (Future-fic). It's Christmas 2019 and the McNally-Swarek's make their annual pilgrimage to get on Santa's knee. This time around the festive season truly does wave its magic wand, and forgiveness abounds.


_A/N Just a short little one-shot Future-fic for the Festive Season (and a special shout-out to a fellow Aussie fan :)) (Procrastination over real-life apparently turns me to write!)_

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue**

* * *

**Christmas, 2019.**

* * *

Sam is more than convinced that Andy's deliberately lost track of time in her efforts to hunt down a board book of _Each Peach Pear Plum_, that Bella and Noah "just have to have."

(It's been the same story 4 years in a row. They'll wait in the insanely long line for The Bay's Santa for five minutes max, when McNally will flash her teeth at Sam and do an "oops, I forgot to look for a _you know what_ that will give Santa a clue on what he needs to bring to our house this year." She'll wink at him all big and exaggerated whilst gently running her fingers through at least one of the kids' dark mop of curls.

Every year Sam goes to open his mouth and put up an argument.

And every year, three hopeful faces and six big doe eyes look up at him until he traps his mouth shut.

"Be right back, babe," McNally tells him confidently as she bon voyages the troupe of McNally-Swarek's with an affectionate kiss on each of their cheeks.)

As with other years, McNally's been gone now for at least twenty minutes. He expects she'll make her appearance again soon –

Just like Christmas friggin' magic; right on cue for when it's the turn of their own little elves to sit on Santa's knee, Andy will be back at their side and barking instructions at the bearded one about how he needs to pose.

* * *

When they're two from the front, Sam rolls his eyes around as a bored looking Santa's helper with a name badge calling her 'Lisa' demands: "Name and Age".

Sam bites his tongue so as not to give a sarcastic response. Instead, ever the dutiful daddy -

"Bella, 4, Noah, 2," Sam responds politely with some dimples and all the effort and enthusiasm he can muster - despite his feet aching so much. The kids' love all things Christmas so he's going to be happy, damn it.

And ever since they came along –

Well. Since Andy really, Sam probably should confess that he loves this time of year too.

* * *

"Santa looks skinny," Bella explains with a lisp and an Andy-like scowl that makes him do a double take. She's got her tiny, sticky hand squeezed in one of Sam's palms. Her other skinny arm is straight out like a traffic cop; one impossibly small index finger hooked and pointing accusingly (just like her mother does.)

"That so, princess Bell?" Sam jostles the chubby weight of his son further up onto his hip before he takes a good look. (He really needs to get a hand in his damn pocket to get at a hanky; Noah's runny nose has become a spectator sport).

Sam clears his throat and squints some in the direction of the popular attraction. (He's totally gonna have to get a prescription for some glasses _real _soon).

Still. He's not so blind -

Sam's eyes widen marginally…and his heart might've just skipped a beat.

His little girl has a keen eye for evidence, and what she's presented here and now is a fact. Santa is not just skinny - he's scrawny. And even through all that beard and wig, there's an unhealthy amount of scruff – at least to Sam's eyes.

"What the?" Sam whispers quiet. (He's gotten real good with not saying curse words out loud).

* * *

And as though on cue, Andy gasps at his side.

"No." McNally gives Sam some earful of elongated o. "Is that?" she squeaks right at the end.

Both of them just stand there gaping and gawking in silence for the longest of times.

* * *

The family gets a hurry-up from Lisa, who's been tapping her feet and clicking her fingers in front of them for who knows how long. "Hurry up. Santa doesn't have all day."

McNally rolls her eyes at Lisa twice and snorts. "What. You two got some place you need to be?"

Sam smirks at his wife's barb. He figures either she didn't find that book she was after, or her mood's turned real dark because of _who_ is about to have their children on his knee. Sam's not happy about it, _at all_, either. But –

He really thinks they need to pull out some exceptional role modelling here…for the sake of the children of course. He nudges Andy with his elbow and tugs his family the remaining meters until they're right at the base of the steps to the stage.

* * *

Sam uses all his super-powers to grin friendly – more so when he sees the way Santa's eyes go all wide.

Andy's nodding her head and by now trying not to burst into giggles. She gives Boyd some high eyebrow or two as she helps Bella and Noah up onto the podium so they can get on his knees. "Figures that things'd come to this for you," Sam hears McNally mutter out of the side of her mouth.

Don rolls his eyes back at her and looks her up and down – and then over at Sam. He tips his chin up as acknowledgement Sam thinks, and cocks his head to one side. "Cute kids, Swarek," Boyd's voice is as gravelly as ever – something sneaky lurking in the undertones. "Looks like that straight-jacket fits well after all."

Sam sucks in his cheeks and tries not to laugh. Once upon a time he would've gone up there and decked the guy, but –

Some 8 years after they last saw the man, and Sam has Andy and Bella and Noah. Boyd may be Santa Claus, but Sam knows _he's_ the lucky one. Besides that, who knows how different things might've been if the op didn't go that way –

Aside from all that, it looks like Donovan has the wrath of McNally and Bella to deal with. His two girls inspecting the man's face real, real close.

"You know our name?!" Bella wiggles about excitedly and claps her hands once in front of Boyd's nose.

Both of the kids are the picture of awe-struck, actually; huge dimpled smiles beaming up at the person they only know as Santa Claus.

Don's face softens and relaxes instantaneously. He looks back at the two little ones with what Sam suspects are a pair of shiny, moist eyes. "I certainly do," he tells them softly. And then he pulls out the big guns: an actual joyful "ho-ho-ho".

* * *

Sam's wife steps out of the frame awkwardly. Until now she'd been scowling at Boyd just like she did all that time ago. She smiles small and secret as she listens to Boyd now, asking Bella and Noah what they'd like for Christmas this year.

Sam exchanges a crooked grin with Andy and he watches on happily as the photos get taken shot after shot.

After a while, Sam gets up there too. He takes McNally by the hand and walks them the couple of steps to stand behind Santa's chair. "Mr Claus, would it be okay if we got a family shot with you?" Sam asks Boyd quietly, as he loops an arm around Andy's waist.

Don looks up as a lopsided grin stretches across his face. "Of course." He clears his throat, and notions to Lisa: "And can I get a copy of this one please, sweetpea?"

The smiles from everyone are on reflex as the camera gets pointed, and despite the history and heartache – they're all genuine.

* * *

Sam shakes the hand of his old frenemy warmly, as Andy and the kids shuffle themselves into a position to also say goodbye.

"I'd say this is your best UC ever, wouldn't you?" McNally asks Boyd as Sam walks his own greatest achievements back down to the crowd.

"I'd say you could be right," Don responds warmly – right before he gets back a snark. "Observant as always with the obvious, McNally. Observant as always."

Andy's still wearing a pout and flicking her hair over her shoulder as she walks toward her family. "He's still a jerk," she whispers low enough in Sam's ear that the kids won't hear. "But, you. You, my darling husband…you are entirely something _else._"

Sam smiles big at her as they clutch at one another's hands and secure their children in the arms that are free.

"Santa was definitely too skinny," Bella tells them innocently as the four navigate their way through the Christmas rush. "But he had real nice eyes."

* * *

_A/N Happy Festive Season to you all!_


End file.
